Kai Odair
by littlelightning
Summary: Everyone knows Finnick Odair's tragic story. Of how he won the 65th Hunger Games at the age of 14, how he was reaped again for the 75th Hunger Games, and how he played a key role in the rebellion against the Capitol. What people don't know was that he had a little sister, Kai. And this is her story.
1. Chapter 1

**- Preface -**

"No." I whispered.

I was only eight years old, but I knew what it meant when you saw someone stand up on that stage.

"Please, no." I begged.

I knew what it meant to stand up there because I had already seen it so many times before.

"Finn, no!" I screamed with all my might.

Those who were chosen would never make it out alive to return to District Four.

"Kai, please. Stop screaming and stand still." My mother grabbed me by the shoulder and turned me around to cry into her chest. Looking back, I now realize that she was more concerned with muffling my sobs than trying to comfort me. She wanted us to appear strong for Finn. But nothing could stop my tears. My brother was being sent off to die.

_Finnick wouldn't be coming back. _

"For goodness sake, Kai. Stand still and don't cry. Please. Don't cry, sweetheart." I felt the weight of my father's hand pressing against my back, trying to sooth me by rubbing reassuring circles.

Then I woke up.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One

_Finnick wouldn't be coming back. _

"For goodness sake, Kai. Stand still and don't cry. Please. Don't cry, sweetheart." I felt the weight of my father's hand pressing against my back, trying to sooth me by rubbing reassuring circles.

Then I woke up.

-/-/-

"Kai, it's going to be alright. Please. Don't cry, sweetheart."

"Finnick." I sigh in relief upon waking. My body sags into his embrace.

_He's alive._

One of his hands rubs slow circles onto my back while his other holds me close to him, gently rocking me back and forth just the way mom used to. The sobs gradually quiet down and my breathing grows normal.

_He didn't die in the games, he won and he's here now. _

I lift up my head and rub my eyes. They're sore and swollen from all the crying.

"I was remembering the day you were called up to be a tribute. I was so scared." I say to him, my voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Look at me, Kai." He pulls my hands away from my eyes and pulls them toward his chest. "I'm sorry I can't be here more often, but the games-"

"The games are over!" I say to him, my eyes watering once again. "You won. You survived. You owe _them _nothing."

He drops my hands and looks up at the ceiling, taking in a deep breath. When he meets my eyes again, they're made of steel. His eyes are dark like the sea during a storm. "I'm a mentor now. It's my responsibility to remain in good relations with the sponsors and the people of the Capitol. Again I'm sorry that I can't be here more, but President Snow has given me orders that I- that I _can't_ refuse. Alright?"

I stay silent for a moment. I'm still upset, but I know that even Finnick can't argue with President Snow. His words expose the helplessness he feels and I hate to see my brother in pain.

"Alright." I concede in a quiet voice.

His eyes soften once more, their depths appearing less stormy with my compliance. He pulls me close again and kisses the top of my head. He has always been a good brother.

"You're here now."

"Yes," He nods. "I'm here now."

Eventually, I fall back asleep in his arms. But at some point in the night, he must have snuck off because I wake in the morning alone once more. The blinds on the windows are doing little to keep out the light, and I squint when my eyes adjust. My bed squeaks loudly as I sit up and stretch. A yawn escapes me as I take a long look at the clothes I had laid out the night before on the door handle to the closet. The outfit consists of a dark blue skirt and a collared blouse that match the green in my eyes- the same green color as Finnick's. The fabric of the blouse is silk, a luxury that I would never have thought to be able to afford until after Finn won his games.

The skirt is thicker, and more sturdy than any other piece of clothing I own. Which is both surprising and silly because I only wear it once a year- for the reaping.

My expression turns hollow at the realization. The reaping is taking place in an hour. This morning marks the day of the 72nd Hunger Games.

-/-/-

When I walk into the kitchen, Finn is already seated at the table. He's holding a crinkled envelope but isn't looking at it. Instead, he's staring off into nothing, a deep, worried crease in his brow. I clear my throat and he snaps out of his daydreaming.

"Is it from Annie?" I ask, raising one eyebrow teasingly. "And do I detect the faint smell of roses?"

His eyes widen as he looks back down at the envelope, and crushes it in his hands forcefully. I roll my eyes. "There's no need to be so secretive. I know you have a thing for her. You two are so cute."

Finn presses his lips in a firm line. "Shut up."

I go still from surprise. He never acted like this around me much. Usually he was one who relished in our teasing banter, encouraged it even. But then I noticed his face. He's paler than usual. His normally golden skin appears gray and ashen. I walk over to him to take a closer look, but he ducks out of the way. Moving toward the cabinet get a mug.

"Sorry." I mumble.

He doesn't answer.

I take my usual place on top of the counter where I can swing my feet, but on this particular morning they're still. On reaping days, it's hard to act lighthearted.

Because Finnick won his games, we were awarded a new house and a substantial amount of wealth. But oftentimes I think that the cost of these luxuries were truly not worth all the pain he went through.

Finn places a mug with warm tea next to me on the table. He pulls out a chair nearby and places his head in his hands. He looks more tired than usual, and a horrible realization crashes over me like the ocean waves, he looks _old_.

"What time did you get in last night?" I ask.

"Late."

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Drink your tea."

I do as he says, trying not to feel too hurt by the short replies. He doesn't once look up from his hands while I slowly sip my drink.

When I finish, I hop down from the counter and walk over to the sink to rinse it out. Looking out of the window while putting the mug under the nozzle, I watch as families walk by in the distance. Those who live by the docks have to march past Victors' Village to get to the town center. Each passerby appears to be wearing their finest clothing, which compared to the outrageous styles of the Capitol, isn't saying much.

After I've finished cleaning my drinking cup, I place it back in its cupboard and open the window a crack. The smell of the ocean comes wafting in along with the strong stench of the workers who always reeked of fish. But the breeze is warm and it appears as if everyone walking into town is dressed for the heat. It was beautiful and it was _home_.

"When are we heading out?" I ask, still gazing intently out the window.

"Now." He states standing up. "We're walking with Mags and Annie."

I nod and go to put on my dress shoes. They were a gift from Finnick's stylist. I thought it was kind for a Capitol citizen, and my brother reassures me that it was.

-/-/-

We meet Mags and Annie at the space between their houses. Mags moves forward to embrace me in a warm hug before giving Finn a loving pat and kiss on the cheek. Ever since Finn won his games, she has become a welcome staple in our family. When our parents died, she filled the role of doting mother. Annie on the other hand, was destroyed at the hands of her games a few years ago. She still hasn't healed from the trauma she was exposed to when the other District Four tribute was beheaded. I can't even begin to imagine what that must have been like. Though sometimes when I see her talk with Finn, she laughs instead of screams, and she doesn't cover her ears as much as leans closer to him to hear. It's sweet.

When we reach the main square, I notice that the crowds are uneasy.

The smaller children are crying and the older ones wear grim faces. Nobody has a smile for this "joyful" event.

Usually District Four was a powerhouse for careers, but this year, it seems as if nobody is willing enough- or in my opinion, crazy enough- to volunteer. Last games, the victor Joanna Mason posed as a scared, powerless little girl and ended up being a killing machine. She took out all the careers quickly and effectively. Her performance must have discouraged a few prospective tributes from volunteering this year. Fear is effective.

Our group stops walking when we reach registration. Finn turns around and gives me a hug. It's strong and reassuring, just like him, and I bask in the warmth of it. Sadly, all good things come to an end and he lets go.

"I love you, Kai." He says. "I'll see you when I see you."

He says that because he can't make any promises, but we've done this a few times already over the years and so I nod. It's only a matter of habit now. He always leaves to mentor some poor child who will end up dying within the next week. There are no words to describe the kind of pain those mentors go through, and I know Finn takes it particularly hard. I'm thankful Mags is there to help shoulder the horrible things that happen in these games.

"Here," He says, handing over a long piece of rope. "Just keep tying those knots I showed you last week okay? Whenever you miss me, tie a knot. And I promise when I come back we'll do something together for each one you make. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah," I sniffle. "It sounds good."

He makes a half smile and then walks toward the stage. I watch as he helps Mags up the steep steps to meet the Mayor. I feel water starting to form in my eyes, but I blink them out of existence before anyone can see me cry. I need to be strong for him. Just like mom wanted me to be.

The peacekeepers identify me by pricking my finger to draw blood, a custom I find truly unnecessary. They then they proceed to rope us girls into the sanctioned areas by age, a lot like how one corners fish into a net. I feel like I'm being made a fish for dinner, but I push that morbid thought aside and stand in my assigned spot with the other fifteen-year-old girls from the district.

It doesn't take long for District Four's escort, Winter, to get everything set up and ready for this morning's reaping. He is very tall and very, very blue. I feel like every single time I see him at the reaping he's trying to outdo the classic blue of the sea. Capitol people are so strange.

"Greetings District Four, and happy Hunger Games!"

His voice is so falsely sweet that without looking, I am distinctly aware of the girl standing next to me rolling her eyes. I don't have the heart to show much emotion aside from emptiness. Every year I hear the same spiel and witness the same evil that I've discovered that I can't not afford to be anything else. Plus, being Finnick's sister, I'm probably on camera and it won't do his reputation any good if his sister is mocking the most valued pastime of Panem in front of the entire country. So I ball up my fists and stare straight past the crowd of innocent children, the district officials, and the stage itself. Instead, I focus on the ocean lying directly beyond the edge of town. I can almost see the waves crashing onto the shore.

"So, let us begin." Winter says, an excited giggle escaping him.

He reaches his hand into the bowl with the names for boys. Not one to skimp out on drama, he makes an act of struggling to open the piece of folded paper. I'm pretty sure Mags' hand on Finnick's leg is to hold him back from strangling him. From my brother's stories, Winter is a real piece of work. They don't get along.

"Raine Castor."

It doesn't take long for the boy to identify himself and walk up to the stage. When he walks up for the seventeen-year-old boy section, I recognize him. He was one of those arrogant guys I remembered from school. A few years ago, he was taken out of out of our education program to help on his father's boat because of President Snow's increased quotas. I doubt that he's feeling so haughty now. I admire his composure though. He wasn't hesitant to accept his fate. He didn't cry. He didn't scream. And in the next few moments, nobody volunteered. Not that I expected anyone to.

"Now it's time for one of you lovely ladies to become an _honorable_ tribute!" He says with the same level of enthusiasm as he did when announcing Raine's death sentence.

He reaches his hand into the bowl and selects a slip of paper from one of the top few layers. This time he opens the paper with ease, but to make up for the lack of dazzling drama, he gasps. His teal dyed eyebrows lift up in surprise and he begins to break out in nervous laughs. When he calms down he apologizes to the mayor and mentors standing on stage with him while adjusting his tie. With a recovered sense of composure he finally says the name into the booming microphone.

"Kai Odair."


End file.
